


Wolfensbane Forest

by CynicalMistrust



Series: Destiel Smut Brigade Fall Challenge [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Anal Sex, Destiel Smut Brigade, Dubious Consent, Elemental Magic, Light Bondage, M/M, Magic, Magic-Users, Omega Dean, Rimming, Shapeshifting, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 08:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5121488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicalMistrust/pseuds/CynicalMistrust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is challenged to spend the night in a supposedly haunted forest. He never expected it to be true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wolfensbane Forest

**Author's Note:**

> Challenge fic for the Destiel Smut Brigade 'Haunted Forest' Halloween prompt.

Dean cursed his brother for the hundredth time as he stepped deeper into the forest. The sun had set hours ago and the night clung to him with a damp chill as a fog roiled through the trees. Soft light from a full moon cast everything in a hazy grey hue. Dead and dying leaves crunched under his boots as he pulled his jacket tighter around himself. He was starting to think five hundred bucks to spend the night in what the locals called Wolfensbane Forest wasn’t worth it, but like hell he’d give his brother the chance to call him chicken.

Dean Winchester was a lot of things - adorable, sexy genius, just to name one, but coward was not one of them. He did wish he had been allowed a flashlight though. His fingers strayed to the knife he always carried on him, brushing against the curved hilt he’d wrapped in black _ito_ himself. It fit perfectly into his palm, the blade curving in the opposite direction, over his knuckles. The blade itself was coated black, but the edge was silver and sharp. He didn’t expect to need it, didn’t believe in the legends of a wolf-man, but he’d seen some fucked up shit in his life, and he knew crazy came out with a full moon. It was even worse on All Hallow’s Eve.

Better safe than sorry, since he intended to kick Sam’s ass all the way back to Stanford once the night was over. No more road trips. He always got the short end of the stick.

He spotted a small clearing on top of a short incline and made his way up, turning around to take in the view. It wasn’t as good as a cave or a giant rock to put his back to, but it would work. He put his back to a tree and slid down. Branches and rocks dug into his ass and he shifted to clear them away before pulling his knees in close to conserve his body heat. It wouldn’t take long for the cold ground to make his ass go numb. Yeah, Sam was a dead man.

He leaned back and rested his head against the rough bark, listening to the crickets, the hoot of an owl in the distance. The fog continued shifting along the ground, the damp chill growing a bit colder, making the back of his throat and nose raw, sharpening the scent of wet earth and decaying leaves. He shivered, rubbing at his arms as he closed his eyes. It was too early to sleep, but it wasn’t like he had anything else to do, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to use the time to reflect or self-assess. Screw that bullshit.

With a sigh, he cracked his eyes open, too wired to even sit still, let alone sleep. He watched the fog shifting and caught the faint reddish glow of fireflies in the thick of it, staring at them as he found them oddly mesmerizing. It took several long moments for him to notice they weren’t flickering in and out, and they weren’t moving. And there were only two. Goosebumps erupted on his skin as he realized they weren’t fireflies. They were eyes.

He cursed and pressed back harder into the tree as they moved, catching the shadow of a large shape behind them, shrouded in the fog, before they vanished. Fuck. He went utterly still as he heard something moving around him, and then silence, followed by a piercing howl. Close. Far too close for comfort. He fought through the panic and beginnings of terror and was on his feet in moments, blade in his hand as he turned in a circle.

He’d fought guys twice as big as himself, killed a rabid dog once when it’d attacked him, but a wolf? From his glimpse of the shadow, this thing was fucking _huge_.

The howl came again, louder this time. He spun, hearing it moving closer, towards him. His heart thudded in his chest. If he survived this, Sam was _dead_. He tightened his hand on the grip, feeling it slick with sweat despite the chill, holding it in front of him as he continued turning, unable to pinpoint the direction the wolf was moving.

A soft snuffling sound came from behind him. Dean closed his eyes, swallowing, holding his breath. He turned slowly, coming face to face with glowing red eyes set in a black-as-night face twice as big as his own. The wolf’s teeth were bared. Dean felt the blood draining from his face at the size of them. They could tear his throat out, no problem.

The wolf shifted, prowling in a slow circle around him, and Dean had to force himself to stay still. He could feel the wolf’s eyes on him, swore it was studying him, sizing him up. It wasn’t until the wolf was back in front of him and staring at the knife he knew that was true. This wasn’t just a wolf. He remembered the legends, of a man who could take wolf’s form, or vice versa. No one seemed able to agree on which came first, but it didn’t matter. Not when those red eyes were staring at him with threatening intelligence.

“Hey buddy,” he said, licking his lips and clearing his throat as quietly as possible. “Didn’t come here to hurt you.”

The wolf let out a breath that Dean swore was… amusement, and he had to fight down the irrational offense of being laughed at by a wolf. Then things got weirder as the wolf hunched. The fur receded, its shape shifting into that of a man. A tall, dark-haired man. Who stood in front of him, naked. Moonlight gleamed on the bare flesh, casting sharp shadows over the well-defined body. “Hurt me?” The voice was deep and sent shivers all along Dean’s spine. The eyes that had glowed red before were darker now, the faintest glow in the depths of blue as they focused on the knife. “You brought a weapon.”

Dean looked at his knife, lifting it an inch reflexively and gasping as the wolf-man moved, quicker than any human. His back hit the tree, his arm pinned above his head. The man reached up, pressed thumb and index finger to the hilt near Dean’s fingers and tugged. He didn’t fight to hold onto it as much as he was loathe to release it, watching as it was tossed aside before focusing on the face hovering inches from his own.

“Who are you?”

Dean licked his lips, flexing his wrist against the iron grip the man had on him. “Dean.”

“Why are you in my forest, Dean?” The man leaned closer and _sniffed_ at him, hot breath caressing Dean’s throat. His fingers tightened against the wrist he held pinned to the tree. “You smell like one of us.”

Dean swallowed, trying to pull away and only ending up with tree bark digging into his scalp. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was dared to spend the night here. Just let me go and I’ll leave.”

The man shifted close enough his body-heat enveloped Dean, though he wasn’t physically touching him anywhere except his wrist. “May I taste you, Dean?” There was a softer growl to his voice when he spoke and he tilted his head, meeting Dean’s eyes.

Dean found it impossible to look away even as his heart skipped a beat. Taste him? “You’re going to eat me?” He hated the way his voice tried to crack. Why had he given up his knife so easily? He lifted his free arm in a panicky reflex, pushing at the man’s chest and hissing through his teeth when he didn’t budge in the least. He was an inch or two taller than this guy yet he felt more sturdy than Sam.

The man looked surprised. “I will not harm you, you are one of us.”

“Like hell I’m part of some freak show.” He blinked as the man flinched, stepping back to put an inch of space between them without releasing his wrist. The rush of cold air made him shiver and he dropped his free arm back to his side.

“There was a time when humans were the _freaks_.” His voice had gone cold and he spat the word as if it caused a personal affront to even speak it. “Wolfenkind once ruled the land, before humans began to destroy it, destroy us. And now even half-breeds are trespassing, unaware of their heritage, consumed by human ignorance and insatiable greed.” He bared his teeth with a growl and even if they looked like human teeth, the canines were sharp and long enough Dean had no doubt they could tear flesh with ease.

Dean clamped his mouth shut before he could say something to get his throat ripped out, swallowing several times and focusing on breathing. “What’s your name?” That seemed safe enough.

The man didn’t respond for a long moment, his grip on Dean’s wrist turning less painful. “You may call me Cas.”

“Cas.” Dean licked his lips and flexed the fingers of his trapped hand. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, but I am not a… a half-breed.”

Cas leaned closer again, chasing away the cold as he breathed in near Dean’s neck. “It’s faint, but it’s there. Dampened by human genes. All you need is a touch of magic to awaken.”

Dean laughed, though it sounded a bit hysterical even to his own ears. “Right. I’m part wolf. I guess that explains why I like my steak rare.”

“Yes.” Cas tilted his head, lips hovering near Dean’s ear. “May I taste you, Dean?”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn’t happening. He was not having an identity crisis in the middle of the night because some freak wanted to taste him. He decided he wasn’t going to kill Sam. No, Sam was going to suffer, because he knew he wasn’t getting out of here until he let Cas “taste” him. He let out a long breath and nodded.

“Say it.”

Dean hissed and turned his head away from Cas. Through clenched teeth, he said, “Yes.”

He expected an immediate bite or… something, but no. All that happened was Cas stepped closer, pressing against his body with his firm weight, and lowered his head to Dean’s neck. He shivered as he felt the ghost of lips on his skin, his eyes closing and his head falling back on its own accord. A sharp, startled groan tore out of his throat at the warm press of a wet tongue.

The air shifted around them, became charged, growing stronger as Cas let out a sound that was all wolf - soft and dark and possessive in a way that had something going weak deep inside Dean. Something that yearned to be… claimed.

Dean’s eyes flew open as he felt the tree moving behind him. _Moving_. Shifting as if it were alive. “What-” Cas shushed him with a graze of teeth to his neck and by the time he recovered his senses, both his arms were secured above his head with a coiled branch. He struggled to get them free and glanced down in time to see another branch wrap snake-like around his ankles, trapping him in place. “What the hell?!”

“You can feel it, can’t you?” Cas slid his hands up and down Dean’s sides, caressing his hips before cupping his face. “The Wolf inside you, wanting to be freed. It calls to me.” He stroked his thumbs against Dean’s cheeks and leaned forward, tracing his tongue along Dean’s lower lip. His eyes started to glow again, a reddish hue behind the midnight. He breathed out tendrils of the night sky, specks of stars glimmering in the depths. They undulated as they wrapped around Dean, sinking into his skin with a wintery kiss, clouding his eyes, filling his mouth and lungs as Cas’ lips sealed over his.

Dean shuddered and moaned as he arched into Cas, feeling the magic covering him, filling him, changing him. His moans turned to screams. The pain was brief, but agonizing, like a knife digging into his insides, in his gut and groin and deeper. He sagged against the tree as the echoes of pain faded after a few minutes, gasping and shivering as the cold air cooled the sweat on his skin. “What did you do to me?”

Cas pressed close again, nose pushed into Dean’s neck. “Made you true to what you are.” He licked at the pulse point beneath Dean’s flesh, groaning and breathing deep, hands slipping under Dean’s jacket and shirt.

Dean sighed as the touches to his chest and stomach soothed something deep inside him, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He lifted his head to look at Cas and went still as he became aware of a scent, sharper than the cold air, like the night sky itself, a warm undertone of spices. It coiled around him like the magic had, curling in his gut and groin with a slow heat. “Oh…” he breathed, pressing forward to breathe more of it in until he realized the source of the scent was Cas. A low, keening moan escaped him as want and desire blossomed inside him.

He wasn’t a virgin by any means, had even been with a few guys, but he’d never given up his ass before, which was exactly what he felt like doing now. Bending over and offering himself up to let this stranger plow into him. He let loose a longer groan as he imagined what that would feel like, glancing down as a wave of panic broke through the haze when he felt something wet coating his thighs. “Oh gods. Oh fuck. I’m bleeding! What the hell did you do to me? I’m dying!”

Cas made a shushing sound against Dean’s lips. “You’re not bleeding or dying.” He groaned, sliding his hands down to rub against Dean’s ass. “You smell so good, Dean. Stop fighting your instincts.” His voice dropped to an enticing purr. “I won’t hurt you, Dean. I’ll take care of you, if you’ll let me. If you’ll trust me.”

Dean growled and kept hold of the panic, using it to fight the part of him wanting to surrender everything and let Cas have his way with him. “Says the guy who has me tied up to a fucking tree.”

“Do you want me to let you go?” Cas shifted, rubbing their hips together, his teeth scraping against Dean’s neck.

Dean swallowed down a groan, hips thrusting forward as his head fell back against the tree, offering up more of his throat. Part of him wanted to say no, even as the rest of him was completely fine with where he was, freaked out or not. He’d never let himself be tied up before, but this felt amazing. Right. Like something he’d always wanted without realizing it. “No.”

Cas smiled against Dean’s neck. “Do you trust me?”

 _Not in the least._ He meant to say that, but there was another part of him that wanted to give in, to surrender, to be _claimed_ , and that was the part of him that answered in a broken sigh. “Yes.”

Cas’ touches turned demanding, shoving Dean’s pants down as the pliable branches on his ankles shifted, releasing their hold long enough the garments could be tossed aside completely. And then they were coiling around Dean’s legs again, around his calves and thighs, lifting them up and apart to leave him open and exposed. Cas’ hands stroked his slicked thighs as he sank to his knees, licking them clean with soft moans and growls, tongue working its way up to the source.

Dean gasped and writhed as he hung from his wrists and legs. He pushed his hips towards Cas with moans that turned needy and pleading the closer Cas got to his opening. His… wet opening. Why was he wet? Why did Cas’ tongue pushing into him feel so fucking amazing? “Oh gods…”

Cas moaned into Dean, thrusting his tongue in and out with soft, wet noises. He trailed his tongue up against Dean’s balls and cock as his fingers took the place of his tongue. He pushed two into Dean with more ease than he should have been able to, lowering his mouth over Dean’s arousal, swallowing him down and curling his fingers. He tilted his head enough to glance up at Dean, meeting his eyes and smirking around his dick.

Dean bucked and thrashed, or tried to with his limited mobility. The branches held him steady as his hips rocked between Cas’ mouth and fingers. The burn of being stretched pulsed beneath the pleasure and need that washed through, stealing his breath. He didn’t realize he was breathing Cas’ name between his pleas for more. His head fell back against the tree, sucking in deep breaths, tugging in vain on his wrists. He found himself staring at the night sky, at the slow swirl of stars. He was drowning, falling into them, into the mystifying vastness where the strange magic that was flowing through him originated.

And then Cas stood, sliding up the length of his body. He stopped with his face an inch away from Dean’s, blue eyes dark and piercing, staring at Dean long enough he started to squirm. Then Cas’ lips were on his and he tasted himself. The heat that filled him as Cas pushed into him grounded him, drawing him back to the moment and the intense pleasure and consuming need. “Cas…”

Cas’ lips and teeth on his neck drew a keen of desire for something… more. The branches on his legs receded and he wrapped them around Cas’ hips, moaning louder at the deeper thrusts. He lifted himself with his wrists, dropping his hips to drive Cas in deeper. Cas seemed to get the message, his fingers digging into Dean’s ass hard enough to bruise as he picked up the pace.

Dean didn’t even try to stay quiet, hissing as Cas pinned his hips to the tree, rough bark digging into his skin. The discomfort was overridden by the pleasure of being filled, of Cas thrusting into him hard enough to jar his teeth. He’d be bruised and unable to walk for a week, but his screams were of pleasure and coaxing Cas for release. When a hot, rough hand wrapped around his dick, he found it, coming with a silent scream, his breath stuttering as Cas fucked him through his orgasm until he was completely spent.

Cas growled against Dean’s neck, biting almost gently at the flesh as if restraining himself as Dean came. He pulled out and gripped his own dick as he came on Dean’s stomach and thighs, coating them completely with a harsh growl before slumping forward.

Dean glanced down at himself, a stray thought of _holy shit, that’s a lot of jizz, that can’t be normal_ passing through his mind before he blacked out.

 

* * *

 

Dean woke to the scent of food cooking, groaning and burrowing deeper under the covers before his eyes flew open. He sat up, remembering the forest and Cas, but he was inside what looked like a simple log cabin, wrapped up in a thick blanket on a sofa that had seen better days. His clothes were folded neatly on the table and he risked a glance under the covers to see he was naked.

There was no sign of Cas so he shoved back the covers and stood, swaying a bit and finding the pain in his ass wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d expected. He pulled his clothes on and searched for the bathroom with only a slight limp. He took care of business and was on his way to finding whatever was cooking when he caught that cold-and-spice scent again a moment before the door opened.

Cas stepped inside, as naked as before, hair a windblown mess, nose and ear tips pinked from the cold. He glanced towards the couch with a frown before he spotted Dean in the hall, smiling and lifting his hand that held a familiar blade. “I found your weapon.”

Dean stared at him, trying to reconcile this smiling man with the forceful wolf-man from before. “Thanks…” He licked his lips, glancing to the door. It was still dark out, which meant it wasn’t morning yet. He still had time to get back before Sam even noticed he was gone, and he could pretend none of this ever happened.

Cas noticed the look and sighed. “I won’t try to make you stay, but Dean… you can’t ignore what you are.”

“Yeah? And what am I?” Dean winced as he sounded almost hostile. He hadn’t meant it to come out quite like that. There was a hot itch growing at the base of his spine and it was making him twitchy.

Cas set the blade down on the table before taking a seat on the sofa. “You’re Omega. Our kind is rare these days; Omega even rarer. Male Omega…” He smiled and shrugged. “They’re something of a myth.”

Dean rubbed at his eyes. “What the hell does _that_ mean?”

Cas tilted his head, studying Dean for a long moment. “I guess we’ve faded from the world more than I thought.” He stood, stepping closer to Dean. “It means you are special, Dean. And… I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to make sure no other Alpha laid their hands on you.”

“What?” Dean glanced up in confusion, sure he was reading more into that than what Cas meant. He tensed as he realized how close Cas had gotten, breathing deep and shivering as that wonderful scent filled his nose. He growled and shook his head, trying to clear it. “What are you doing that makes me want to trust you?”

Cas smiled. “Nothing. It’s your natural instinct.” He lifted a hand and rested it on Dean’s shoulder. “You can trust me, Dean. I won’t hurt you. I won’t make you stay, but I won’t let you go, either.”

Dean glanced to the hand on his shoulder. “What does that mean?”

“It means I’m going with you.”

Dean looked back at Cas, eyes trailing over all the naked skin that had been hidden in shadows before. “You’re naked.” He tried and failed to pull his eyes away, but he found he was fascinated by the sun-kissed flesh and the muscles beneath. Wanted to touch to make up for being denied the chance earlier.

Cas glanced down at himself. “I have clothes.”

“Right.” Dean stepped back, squashing down the strange urges and taking a deep breath. Cas’ scent soothed the twitchiness enough for his stomach to announce its annoyance at being empty.

Cas smiled, gesturing to the fireplace. “There’s stew, help yourself.”

Dean watched him disappear down the hall before looking to the fireplace where there was an honest-to-God black cast iron pot. It hovered near the edge of the flames and was the source of the smell that made his stomach rumble. His mouth watered as he pulled the lid off and breathed in the tantalizing scents of garlic and rosemary.

He filled a bowl as he heard running water, working his way through another three bowls before Cas rejoined him. He paused with the spoon in his mouth, eyes flicking over the black suit. It wasn’t quite the outfit he’d expected, but it seemed to suit him. He finished the last bites of his stew and set the bowl aside. “You’re sure about… this?” It wasn’t quite sinking in that Cas was coming with him, much less what all that entailed.

Cas tilted his head, tugging a black jacket on. “I’ve waited a very long time for you, Dean. The only way you’re getting rid of me is to kill me.” He smiled faintly, though Dean didn’t miss the serious look in his eyes.

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair, watching Cas fill a bowl of stew and devour it. The clean scent of Cas wrapped around him, soothing some of the ill-boding. The rest of it disappeared when Cas finished eating and stood, leaning over to press their lips together as if it were natural.

“You’ll help me adapt? It’s been a long time since I participated in society…”

Dean stared at Cas and bit his tongue against asking how long, laughing instead as he nipped at Cas’ lips. “Yeah, sure.” He had a feeling he was getting in over his head, but to hell with it. Cas made him feel things he’d never felt before, and that was worth seeing where this went. “Yeah,” he said again, “you’re safe with me, Cas.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the ending and some of the parts in the middle. I hit a rough patch with writing when I was half-finished. I had another smut scene planned for the end and may write it eventually, but with the deadline, I ended it best I could at the moment. Sorry again if it seems abrupt or lacking.


End file.
